


THE END.

by NovaFicachi



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Maybe i will add a new chapter, My view of Carl's sentence of death, Negan and Rick being friends, Negan feels, Negan is suffering, This will probably be a part of a tree chapters series, Zombie Bite, Zombies, but it will be pure smut, or something like that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-20
Updated: 2018-09-13
Packaged: 2019-02-17 09:12:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13073757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NovaFicachi/pseuds/NovaFicachi
Summary: Negan returns to Alexandria after the night attack, ready to claim the place and take Carl under his command. However the end is not exactly as he expected.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> If you can, I will ask you to read this with the song Pretty when you cry - Lana del rey, please.  
> I'm sorry if there's any mistake.

His boots echoed as they crushed the earth beneath them. Lucille swayed from side to side in his hand and a smile crossed his face. Rick had finally shown the white flag by leaving the gate open, after the attack Alexandria had suffered the night before. He knew they were in there, on reaching the place he had glimpsed the girl, what was her name? Edid? Something like that, not that he cared much about Carl's little girlfriend, after all, he had returned not only to claim and occupy Alexandria, sending everyone to the Sanctuary to be fixed, but to take Carl under his command once and for all, after killing Rick. 

-Close the fence and investigate the surroundings. I'm sure everyone is submissively waiting inside the house, but with that bastard, Rick, one does not know. If someone sees the child, don't kill him, bring him to me -"Yes sir", he listen before heading to the place. 

Negan stopped at the porch. He could guess the silhouettes of everyone in there, through the net of the door, some were sitting, but most were standing and seemed to be surrounding something. All remained impassive, without making any attempt to flee or present a fight. An alarm went off in his head and he fought to extinguish it by sketching his typical smirk and placing Lucille on one shoulder. He took the doorknob and pushed enough for it to slam lightly against the wall. Some looked at him, but he could count them with the fingers of one hand and had fingers left over. He saw Father Gabriel among them, seated and with an expression that, despite being full of cold sweat, reflected fear of man. He knew he had escaped, of course, but he had no intention of paying much more attention, at least not at that moment. 

-Well! What the hell we have here? Have you finally decided for me to fuck you gently? -He shouted as he walked among the people gathered there, to whom, to be honest, he did not seem afraid of them. Rather they seemed to be mired in deep grief to care for his words. 

The second alarm went off in his brain as some of his men entered, pointing their guns at the Alexandrians, in case anyone thought of doing something very stupid. He then spotted Rick, leaning on a stretcher carrying someone, someone he could not make out from his position. The black woman was also there and her eyes were almost no longer eyes cause they were swollen. The third alarm came on and a knot began to grow in his chest. 

-What's up Rick?! Did you finally accept it? -He questioned with a smile, trying to ignore the sensation within himself. 

-What do you want? You already have Alexandria ... What more do you want? -Then Rick straightened, moving away from the stretcher and Negan could see who was lying in it. 

A blue eye stared back at him, now tired and cloudy, not fierce and defiant as before. He was surrounded by an excessively pale and sickly skin, and his hair, once soft and shiny now looked dull and messy, with some strands that caked his forehead and cheeks, the product of the fever that consumed him. Beside him, on the bedside table, a syringe rested, already without any liquid, next to a glass container, which appeared to be an antibiotic. As Negan looked down the boy's neck and bare chest, skin that he would have liked to see in a different situation, to be honest, Lucille fell from his shoulder to hang from his hand and finally resonated against the floor when Negan saw the reason of the minor's state ... Carl had been bitten. "No," he said in his mind, not his little serial killer. 

Everyone remained expectant to Negan's reaction, including his men, who had lowered their weapons, impressed. Rick frowned, looking at his son and never saw him coming. 

-THIS IS YOUR FUCKING FAULT! - From one moment to another he was against the wall and Negan's fist crashed again and again against his face, while one of his knees was sinking in his stomach. - THIS IS ALL YOUR DAMN FUCKING BLAME! - He was thinking directly into the other man's face. 

-Rick! - Michonne and some others tried to help him, but gave up when the saviors raised their threatening weapons again. 

-I'LL KILL YOU! I WILL MAKE YOU PAY! - He screamed, again and again. The veins in his temples and neck were marked by his red skin. 

They all retreated, they had never seen him so angry, not even when Rosita had "hurt" Lucille. 

-Negan ...! - A choked and sibilant voice forced him to stop, moving away from Rick, who fell to the ground slowly, until he was seated. Michonne ignored the gun aimed at her and ran to his aid, with her expression troubled. Negan turned to look at Carl, who was leaning just on his elbows, before he fell against the bed and gasped for oxygen, his eyes closed. 

-Fool! Do not force yourself! -He said, approaching the stretcher and stealing the black woman's seat, to be closer to Carl. 

-He had ... He had nothing to do with this ... - managed to articulate, with his lips between open. His breath was deathly stingy, Negan could tell. He did not have much left. Maybe he would be already dead if not for that dose of antibiotic as a last hope. -This didn't happen... because of... neither of you two... -The eldest burned with the desire to tell him many things, but that would steal the boy's time and he was not for the job of letting that happen. He would only let him express everything he liked. - You ... You must stop all this...- he said, in the midst of gasps and wheezing breaths, often with his eyes closed. -You can work together... You should do it... -Negan looked up and glared at the Rick's hurt one, he could do it, he could cooperate as a good boy, but that would be being at the mercy of Rick and the others. Negan could not kill Rick, or anyone else, but Rick would kill him, he was sure. -Dad... Do not kill Negan... It's over... Do it for me... -Both men looked at the boy with surprise. His father even looked hurt, disappointed. -Promise me- Rick stared at him a few seconds and then nodded quietly, without looking up again. The older man looked at him, wishing his promise was serious. -Negan... -the major looked at him again and now Carl was struggling to keep his eye open, to hold his gaze. 

-Yes? -His right hand sank into his hair and with a light touch brushed a strand of hair away from his face, while Carl sighed, giving himself the luxury of enjoying the gesture. 

-Before ... What I said ... I was serious ... Could you? -His hand went up, hesitant, to take Negan's wrist, in a crude attempt to return the caress. Before the question, the major frowned, hurt, knowing what he was referring to, remembering the words of the minor having attended to his threatening call, hours before. 

-Don't fuck me, Carl! You can't ask me for such a fucking thing! -His tone of voice was not anywhere near as intimidating and rabid as he wanted it to be. 

\- Yes I do ... You're the only one who can really do it ... You have ... You have the right. 

-No -he said, averting his eyes, frowning, fighting, for the first time in a long time, for not crying, especially in front of his men, who already looked at him too shocked. 

-Please Negan ... Please.

Negan pursed his lips and frowned even more, struggling with himself to make a decision... 

In a sudden movement, his knife was unsheathed from his belt and placed on Carl's right temple, and, as he felt the steel in his skin, he closed his eyes. 

-Wait! -Behind, Rick protested. - Please wait until he change... 

-No -Carl said firmly, looking at Negan. -I do not want to be one of those things ... Do it now -he asked, swallowing and closing his eyes. 

Negan inhaled deeply and held his breath, affirming the grip on the knife. He looked at the boy and so, with his eyes closed tightly and his lips pursed, Carl looked like the child he was: innocent, naive, scared of what would happen. He had to do it, before he repented... 

-Will it hurt? -Carl said then, his voice trembling and a treacherous tear, fugitive from that closed eyelid, slipped through his skin. 

-Fuck ... -Negan spluttered, his voice cracking, moving away from Carl. He put the knife away, got up from his chair, picked up Lucille and bolted from the room. 

He passed Father Gabriel, who was barely in a better condition than Carl. He remembered his conversation, of course, and he could not help it. "I could not put an end to it before she was transformed" -he recalled. "That's how I was weak." He clenched his teeth. He was being weak again. 

The door banged loudly against its frame when Negan left, stunned everyone. 

-AAARGGHH!! -Negan barked on the street, drawing the attention of many of his men outside, nothing that mattered less, no longer. 

With severe despair, violence and impotence, Negan repeatedly slammed Lucille against the floor. He screamed when the barbed wire raised dirt from the ground, because his mind paraded scenes that involved the boy: that look of his, the first time he met him, the challenge in his eye, the hatred ... The fear then and uncertainty , when he was caught. That skin of hiss so beautiful and his hair so silky. What would his smile look like? What would the future have been like, if he were not condemned? He would have been the second in command, his right hand ... How would it have been ... To kiss his lips ... To touch his skin ... To make him his...? "-Negan"... 

-AAAAAAAHHHHH!!! -His knees creaked as they collided with the ground. 

Negan covered his eyes and began to sob silently. It was not fair, it was not the end he deserved. In the end the boy had been his nemesis, his death, the divine punishment for his actions with his wife and after. 

A hand on his shoulder stopped his drifting and very reluctantly, he moved his hand away from his face, wet with tears, and he look with red eyes at other peers. Rick held out his hand and maintained an empathetic expression, just as hurt as his. With a painful sigh she took Lucille with her right hand and held the man's hand with the other. Rick pulled and the older one remained standing. All the men, already shocked, were even more surprised when Rick patted Negan on the back, inviting him to be strong, to face the dilemmas of the present and share for a moment, for a day, the grief, the sadness and duel. Rick opened the door and both entered, ready, one to complete his task and the other to endure seeing the end of his son at the hands of the man who should be his enemy.


	2. The beginning.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The part that I owed. Hope you like it.

His hands were shaking, as he held the military knife by Carl's temple, ready to push it against his skull, finishing it all before he could become a monster. Negan had already managed to control himself, not wanting to look weaker in the eyes of his men, whom he had sent out of the home. Rick had also removed all his people and at that time there were only him, Michonne, Negan, Father Gabriel and obviously Carl. 

The boy continued to look at him with those tired and dull eyes, letting some tears fall down his cheeks, when he remembered everything that could have lived next to that man. In Negan he had seen a leader figure, from the day he had tried to kill him. Then, even though the older man's presence had annoyed him in some way, he had found peace, sitting on the porch of his home, with Judith on his legs and him at his side. It had been strange, and for a long time he had debated with himself, surrounding the idea that arose in his mind, which made him hate himself in a way. The night before, when he had asked Negan to kill him, he already knew the answer to his inner debate. He loved him. No. They hadn't spent enough time together to love him, but he wanted to love him. He wanted the opportunity to share more moments with the eldest. Physical attraction had come first, then the personality of the man. The third step would have been to fall madly in love with him, after allowing him to approach. How would Negan take it? Would he feel the same? And how would his father take it? He could no longer know, for he would die, prey to the virus, victim of fever, which was receding at times because of the few antibiotics that had been administered to him. There was no way back, despite feeling every time, not better, but more calm. It was perhaps the peace of death that intoxicated his senses and made him want to sleep, not to die, but rest. 

Rick held back just a whine of pain, while the woman burst into tears, when Carl finally closed his eyes, his chest lifting the only sign that he was still alive. Negan frowned and bit his lip, digging his nails into his palms, avoiding crying at all costs, because if he did, he would sink in his grief and forget the most important task. He held the handle of the weapon tightly, already without hesitation, waiting for the moment in which Carl's chest stopped moving, the moment in which he would have to kill him... 

 

* * *

 

His heart was pumping faster than usual, when he sat on the bed, totally scared and sweaty. Tears ran down his cheeks. Again that stupid nightmare. With his right hand, Negan wrinkled his eyelids, wiping the liquid from his eyes. He then looked at the little light that filtered through the curtains of the window. Five AM, he thought, sighing. It was always the same dream, since two years ago. He didn't remember it every night, but it was present from time to time. He saw himself finding out that Carl had been bitten; crashing Lucille to the ground, and the final hour, when the boy had closed his eyes... 

Wanting to cry a little more, unsure that everything around him was part of a dream, afraid to find himself suddenly facing that stretcher again, with his dying lover, he looked to his right, barely contemplating the figure that was silhouetted against him, hardly guessing its outline, naked under the sheet, as much as he was, product of one more night of many lived. He was turned towards him, allowing him to see his smooth features, barely hardened by full maturity. Negan extended a trembling hand to touch the soft hair of that beauty, brown and more ruffled than usual because of the pillow. He wanted to make sure that the other was really there, among all that darkness, still somewhat scared, wanting to convey what he felt, and that he generally couldn't, because he preferred to suffer in silence, than to wake him up. 

He would go to the porch of the house, to smoke something, to try to forget the bad drink. But then a soft hand was placed over his, still in the long hair. And there he was, that beautiful blue eye, looking at him, sleepy and curious. Negan had been lucky, Carl was awake and he didn't have to spend another moment alone. 

\- Negan? - He asked, leaning on his elbow to look at the other better. - What are you doing awake? Something happens? You're good? - His worried look analyzed the face of his partner, trying to guess what the other was doing looking at him, his eyes fogged, while stroking his hair.

\- Now I am darling. Nothing happens - he said, combing his soft curls gently. 

\- Will not you tell me? - The child frowned. 

\- Tomorrow, now go back to sleep - he finished, lying back on the mattress, inviting him to lie in his outstretched arms. 

Carl pursed his lips and shrugged. 

\- As you like, old man - he went back to bed, letting Negan hug him, resting his forehead on his shoulder and letting his right hand rest on the other's chest. 

\- Hey! Maybe I'm old, but you love this old man - he complained, pinching the skin at his waist. 

\- I do, yes - affirmed the minor with a smile, but without looking at him anymore. 

Negan left a kiss on his forehead and after a few minutes, Carl had already returned to the arms of Morpheus. The next day he could tell him something that had kept secret those few months they had been together as a couple. He could tell him how terrified he was to wake up inside his cell, the same one that Rick had imposed on him, days after Negan gave up, after having spent the night awake, waiting for Carl to finally die, which he didn't. 

Instead of dying, Carl had begun to breathe more freely and something pink had settled on his cheeks. The pulse had returned to normal standards and the fever had dropped a little. Before the surprised glance of all, Carl got better more and more, waking up at times, until, at dawn of the third day, still sick but out of danger, he had awakened at all, wanting to know where Negan was. Rick said that the older one had given up, like that, without another fight. He had been handcuffed while he kept seeing Carl with relief, and there was no resistance in locking him behind the bars. Armed groups had conquered then the sanctuary and everything had been under the command of Rick. 

Two weeks after being put under surveillance, Carl had visited him, bringing him something better to eat and some cigarettes. That had been the first of many, encompassed in a year and a half. A sentence too low for someone like Negan, after all he had done. But Carl had fought and in the end that fight had resulted in the release of the major, who still couldn't leave the premises. And then the relationship that had sprung up at that time, could finally blossom, and two months after Negan went free, both had surprised everyone with the news. Rick had wanted to kill the other, but he hadn't been able to cope with Carl's anger at this, and, much to his chagrin and at the request of his son, had ended up yielding to the pressure and one of Alexandria's free houses, barely rebuilt, it had been for them alone. They had been there for a while, and Negan could now begin to heal the horrible memory of having almost lost the love of his life, which, by chance, had been resistant to the virus. If one day they could do something with his blood, Carl would be the cure for all that, the cure of that evil, just as it had been for him. 

 

END.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know, I'm sorry if there's a mistake :'u


End file.
